


Family Secrets

by ignipes



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-26
Updated: 2006-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. There is less than a week before the wedding, and Jessica is starting to wonder if she ought to be more panicked about marrying into a family she knows almost nothing about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Secrets

The summer rain is warm and gentle, pattering on the roof and filling the air with a cool, clean scent. Jess stands at the kitchen sink, watching the game in the backyard through the rain-streaked window. She doesn't know who's winning -- she doesn't even know who's on what team -- but she smiles as she sees her brother take out Sam with a flying tackle that sends them both sliding across the churned-up lawn.

"We'll have to hose them off before we let them back inside," Mary says.

She's beside Jess suddenly, appearing in that quiet way she has, and she reaches over to turn off the water Jess has been letting run over the grapes in the colander. Jess glances at her quickly and tries not to stare; Mary is wearing a tank top that reveals the web of old scars along her shoulders and neck, ugly gnarled skin that looks so wrong beneath her serene face. A fire, Sam had explained, a fire that happened a long time ago.

Jess laughs and says, "Justin's really having fun." Then she takes in a deep breath and adds, a little awkwardly, "I really appreciate you being so nice to him, you and...John." It's still weird, calling Sam's parents by their first names, but it's better than being chided for unwanted formality. "He's kind of had a rough time lately."

Mary nods sympathetically and leans against the counter. "Sam mentioned that there were problems, but he wouldn't tell us the details."

Jess looks out the window again. The men have apparently decided that a football game requires the use of garden tools, but her brother seems to be holding his own in the spontaneous rake-hoe-shovel fight that has erupted on the grass.

"He got into some trouble with some people," Jess says, and she knows from the way that Mary tilts her head that the other woman can guess just what sort of people they were.

After a second's thought, Jess wonders why she's even surprised by that. Justin had called her in a feverish midnight terror -- _they're going to kill me, Jess, I totally fucked up and they're going to kill me_ \-- and Jess had immediately woken Sam. Instead of asking questions, instead of being disgusted, instead of brushing aside her fears, Sam had only blinked twice, thrown back the covers, and said, _Okay. I'll call Dean. We'll take care of it._ It wasn't until he'd left and she was alone in the apartment, huddled on the sofa and watching the clock tick through one, two, three a.m., did she think to wonder what the hell a graduate student and a sporadically-employed auto mechanic could do to a bunch of angry drug dealers.

The answer, she'd learned later, was quite a bit.

Sam and his brother had brought Justin back to the apartment, a little roughed-up but otherwise unharmed. While Dean made coffee and talked to Justin in the kitchen -- Jess had no idea what he said, but she knew from Justin's dazed expression afterward that it had sunk in -- Sam had taken Jess in his arms and kissed her forehead and said, _We took care of it. They won't bother him again._ Just like that.

And that was the first time she'd wondered if maybe she didn't really know what she was getting into.

"I really do appreciate it," she says again, looking directly at Mary now. "I know he's made some extremely dumb mistakes, but he's just a kid..."

Mary swats her shoulder playfully. "Don't be silly. You're family now -- or you will be on Saturday -- so Justin is too."

"I -- thanks. It's just..." She swallows, unable to finish. _My mom has already given up on him._ Jess shifts uncomfortably and looks away, scraping the knife idly along the cutting board.

She thinks about the stack of R.S.V.P. cards upstairs on the desk in Sam's childhood room, about the name that doesn't appear on any of them, about the phone calls not returned and letters never answered.

"I don't think my mom is coming to the wedding," she says quickly, all in one breath, and she ducks her head.

There is a long silence, broken only by the sound of the rain on the window and muffled, cheerful shouts from outside. Jess holds the knife on end, turning the point into the plastic cutting board, her face burning.

Mary moves behind her and gives her a quick hug. "You know," she says, her voice low but still light, "I always wanted a daughter." Then she steps to the side, leaning against the counter again and running her fingers absently across her belly, as though tracing an invisible line. "It didn't work out that way, and I just got stuck with two dirty, noisy, clumsy, oafish, ravenous, messy--"

Jess begins to smile.

"--oversized, grubby, loud-mouthed, uncouth _boys_ who take after their father entirely too much and have never gone a single day of their lives without muddy shoes." Mary is smiling now, too, and she smoothes Jess's hair back from her forehead. "I have no idea what our Sammy did to deserve someone as lovely as you, Jessica, but I'm glad he tricked you into marrying him. Sometimes..." Mary pauses, looks toward the window thoughtfully. "Sometimes life surprises us. Sometimes things happen that we don't expect."

There are howls of laughter from the back lawn. Jess agrees, "Yeah, I guess so." And she adds, sincerely, "Thanks."

"There's something I have to tell you," Mary says abruptly.

Jess blinks in surprise. "What is it?"

Mary is still smiling, but her voice is serious. "Sam was afraid you wouldn't believe him, so he asked me to talk to you."

Suddenly wary, Jess repeats, "What is it?"

"Come here." Mary nods her head toward doorway. "The fruit salad can wait."

Jess follows her through the doorway into the living room. It's full newspapers and scattered shoes, squashed pillows and DVD cases, the comfortable clutter of a well-used room. Mary opens the bottom cabinet of a highboy in the corner and pulls out a few wooden boxes. She lifts their lids, peering at the contents, then finally chooses one and carries it over to the sofa.

Mary sets the box on the coffee table, shoving aside a few books, and says, "I'm going to tell you about the family business."

Without sitting, Jess asks, confused, "The garage?"

Then she looks down into the box open on the table. It's full of scraps of paper and newspaper clippings; Jess begins to sift through them without even thinking about it, her heart racing. _Family Perishes in Fire. Mother Dies in Nursery. Arson Suspected._ The articles are from all across the country. South Carolina, Kansas, Oregon, Michigan. Amidst the clippings are folded sheets of notebook paper, yellow legal pages, even a few napkins with strange drawings on them: symbols and sketches, words in Latin and languages she doesn't recognize, staples clumps of pages and pages of tiny, cramped script.

Jess looks at Mary, and she knows her mouth is hanging open but she can't form the question.

"Not exactly." Mary smiles and pats the cushion beside her. "Have a seat, Jessica. This is a long story."


End file.
